


My Second Chance

by rescueme



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Omega Dynamics sort of but not really, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), M/M, Mpreg, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20525288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rescueme/pseuds/rescueme
Summary: Tony Stark had a premonition that the world would come to end and it would be his fault. While planning for the Endgame, he never planned to fall for Steve Rogers, and to keep seeing him during the two years the Avengers fell apart. But now the universal threat has arrived, and Tony has to hide the realization that he is carrying new life.





	1. Chapter 1

The dream felt so real Tony still half-believes he was dreaming as he attempts to jog through the park in downtown New York. It feels as though he has walked through a spider's web, and the residue of the dream is still clinging to his limbs and skin no matter how much he tries to shrug it off. 

He had awoken that morning drenched in a cold sweat, leaving his cotton shirt clinging to his chest and torso, the sheets around his legs wrinkled and damp, his boxers glued to his body. As he had swum back into reality in his cavernous, empty bedroom, he had seen the images from the dream still flashing behind his eyes. 

Steve. Steve staring back at him, looking into Tony's eyes, his mouth twisting into an expression of regret, of concern, of shame, of worry. Steve reaching out his large, muscular arms. Steve taking the child that Tony handed him into his arms, and cradling the baby close. 

God, the baby. In the dream she was warm and soft in his arms, still smeared with blood, fragile and weak, crying and hiccuping. He had cupped her in his hands and looked down upon her beautiful face, the eyes scrunched closed, the small nose, the threads of brown hair, the tiny fists waving, the dimpled knuckles, the rising and falling chest, the slope of her sternum, her belly, the stump of the umbilical cord. 

In the dream he had looked upon the baby as though he was saying goodbye. 

Jogging down the sidewalk, Tony feels his breath hitch and a cold pain his chest as he recalls once more the image of passing that baby into his ex-lover's arms, and how in the dream, that version of himself, of Tony, seemed to know that he was letting her go, letting this precious gift, his daughter, go off into a future with Steve without Tony's presence or love or care. His steps seem to pound the pavement, his breath coming out in pants, as he feels that all-too real pain he felt in the dream settle into his chest once more like ice around his heart. It is a deep, resonating ache. 

The dream had ended with that ache, as Tony had watched the way Steve had turned away, cradling their daughter in his arms, and how Tony watched them go. 

The name came to him in the dream. Morgan. He had called her Morgan. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but they were gone now. It had always been too late. 

He had gotten into the shower after lying in bed awake, trying to process what he had experienced. He had tried to scrub away the sweat and the lingering blur, before deciding to go out and run it off instead, as though he could shed his confusion. 

He passes fans as he runs, snapping pictures of him, awing at the new light on his shirt, signaling the suit. He offers half-waves in return, still fuzzy on reality. The beginning of the dream was hard to grasp-- he had known his baby was coming, and pulled her out of himself, with the shock and acceptance numbed, leaving only a deep longing. A longing to parent. A longing to love her. 

He needs this sunlight, this plunge back into reality, to see real people, to hear voices, feel the wind, use his legs, stretch it out. He speeds up, trying to jog faster, to make his mind focus on the physical act of running rather than the crazy dream, when he sees a flashing light in the corner of his eye, and stops as he sees the light spin into an orange circle opening up into the air of the park, as if by magic. 

Through the glowing circle emerges a tall, handsome man, draped in extravagant robes like some kind of ancient genie, his stern face staring at Stark like he already knows this man and is tired of him. 

"Tony Stark," the man says, gazing at him evenly. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange and I need you to come with me." 

Tony stares back, still half-aware of reality. "I'm sorry, are you selling tickets to something?" 

But then Bruce Banner emerges through the circle, staring at Tony as though he as seen the end, and everything changes as Tony realizes in that moment, as he knows, as he is finally certain, that his awful premonition from all those years ago was indeed a warning, for this, for this very moment.


	2. Chapter 2

He fights off the aliens, throwing his punches, feeling a queasy sensation in the center of his stomach, gnawing inside him. Tony cannot tell if this is a mixture of fear of the upcoming invasion of Thanos, anxiety about Steve's whereabouts, or something else lingering inside him. 

He had not told Banner the full story, of course. Yes, he and Rogers had fallen out hard. But no, they were still on speaking terms. In fact, Steve had visited the compound repeatedly in the previous months, when he slipped away from Sam and Natasha, and arrived in the dead of night, in his civilian attire, having grown out a deep, full beard to aid in his disguise. Under the guise of darkness they shared bottles of wine, and reminisced of better times, more hopeful times. The conversation was always short, laced with tension, before they finally went to bed together. By morning, Steve would be leaving, flying off in a quinjet before Rhodey or Vision (if Vision was even home, which he rarely was now a days) noticed the machinery. 

It was all Steve could bear. And it was all Tony could bear as well. There were too many wounds, still too much scar tissue to navigate. Everything with Barnes and Zemo had left him shaken. He no longer knew if he could trust Steve as he had once hoped. He only knew that he still needed him-- that he still loved him. He still longed for their lovemaking, for when Steve was all his and no one else's, when they were alone and there was nobody else in the world. 

But that did not mean he could open himself up to trust the other man. It did not mean he could call on Steve now. He needed to handle this alone. 

He always knew the journey would lead him back into outer space, into the place of his nightmares. 

But the kid shows up. God, the kid. This kid he has tried to help keep safe and nurture along the way is now on an alien ship trying to help him. Why doesn't he understand how responsible Tony feels for him? He can't help but think of his dream again, of the child he handed away, and looks at the boy as though he can urge him away. But they have pressing matters. Namely, the alien and the doctor, the human doctor, who carries and Infinity Stone and seems to know more than anyone else. They need him. 

Once they have fought the alien off and rescued Strange, Tony removes his suit, pacing the front of the ship. How can he get out of this? How should they confront Thanos? 

"Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you," the doctor states sharply, and Tony feels a rush of aggravation. 

"Yeah, and due to that fact, we are now in a flying donut, hurtling through space, with no backup." 

"I'm backup!" Peter pipes up from behind Strange, and Tony feels a clamminess in his mouth, as though sweat is rising along his neck. 

"No, you're a stowaway," Tony counters, waving his hand. "The adults are talking." 

"I'm sorry, I'm confused as to the relationship here," Strange states, furrowing his brow, gesturing back Peter. "What is he, your ward?" 

Tony feels a surge of nausea and turns away, listening as Peter speaks up and tries to explain who he is, but Tony can barely listen. It is as though all the blood is draining from his face, and he feels cold and clammy, pale and weak. What is happening to him? Why does he feel so awful? 

His first urge is to resort to FRIDAY, but the AI is gone, the ship having traveled too far away from Earth's satellites. Fuck. What is he supposed to do? Peter is here, the kid is here, and he seems so small and young, and Thanos is coming, gathering the stones, and he already has Space and Power, which makes him a titanic force, basically a god, and he's probably headed for Vision, and that means Wanda too, and Steve is back there, down on Earth... 

His vision constricts, going fuzzy on the edges, before the stinging vomit surges up his throat and he staggers forward, heaving onto the metallix alien ship floor. 

"Stark?" The doctor snaps, turning abruptly to walk forward, one arm extended as though to catch him, but Tony instinctively puts his arm out, blocking the strange man. He doesn't need him; he doesn't need anyone. 

"Oh man, Mr. Stark are you okay?" Peter asks, clambering over around the other man, brown eyes wide, but Tony just clenches his jaw, swallowing hard, in self-preservation mode now. 

"Yep, absolutely fine," he answers, feigning casualness as best he can manage. "Sudden pressure change in high altitude. I didn't have my Wheaties this morning." 

The doctor looks at him, eyeing him as though trying to analyze him, and Tony keeps his head turned away. He does not need this stranger searching for weakness, trying to control the upcoming battle. He needs to fix himself before they land, before they have to fight. He needs to sort himself out. He needs to not have any more surprises.


End file.
